Turn Around
by spongebobsmyhero
Summary: COMPLETE. One-Shot. "He just needed to capture the moment in his head, and then he'd be able to let go. If he just took a moment to remember… he could forget. He turned over his shoulder, to face the building, finding a man standing out on his balcony." Jick/Joick. Non-incest. Smut. Don't like, don't read.


**Turn Around**

**(Set the mood. Listen to Colorblind by Counting Crows. Please :D)**

**Sorry if you didn't understand what DLDR meant in my summary. I just couldn't put any more characters in there. It means "Don't like, Don't read."**

**WARNING: There is some man sex in this story. If you're not into that, you could skip over it, but generally, you should just go away now. Also, Joe and Nick are, as you will find out right away, NOT related. I'm not big on incest stories.**

**Alright, now that that's over with...**

**I'm going to try to keep this from being as confusing as I can. I'm sorry if it gets confusing, but please try to follow along. :)**

**Oh, P.S. Nick is the older one in this one-shot. I know that's off, but meh. Get over it.**

**Also, those really long bar things... they represent slight time passage. Or, a change in the point of view, in some cases.**

**Enjoy! :)**

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><p>"I don't need this."<p>

He watched his words puff out as a small cloud in the densely frigid air as he trudged along the street. Away from that stupid new school. Away from those spoiled-rotten idiots. And apparently to his new family that "loved him dearly." He kept his attitude in check, and his grades up, but he knew it would all end the same as it had before. He'd screw up somehow; get in a fight with a new sibling, maybe give off some sort of negative vibe, and before he could blink, he'd be assigned to some other "loving" family. God forbid he would ever react or show remorse, though. He had put so much effort in looking like a solid, unmoving, emotionless rock, but in reality, he shook like some weak, fragile twig. Sure, people tried to interact with him at school, but he couldn't do as much as lift his chin up, and look them in the eyes. His eyebrows were always furrowed, and he had a habit of tugging at the sleeves of his own shirt. But people especially saw through his eyes, which never had a definite emotion, but always a sense of vulnerability and bleakness. He always appeared soft spoken and reserved; one of many characteristics he hated about himself.

He was living in New York now, and the layout of the entire city was much different than what he had grown accustomed to. The people were much less friendly. The streets were crowded, ultimately making them more complicated for him. He had tried to find his way back to his new home, but as the sky dulled, he shuffled through the streets of this new city, lost in his footsteps, and eventually lost in an alleyway he didn't recognize. It seemed lonely, dark, and abandoned, so there he stood awkwardly in a place he figured he'd had much in common with. There were a few people roaming the place, but they didn't seem like the people that he would ask directions from. When two men walked past him holding hands and leaning into each other, one stared him down, and the other gave him a quick nod. He figured that was the friendliest gesture he would receive here, let alone finding the right directions to his new apartment.

He rounded a corner he thought might lead him somewhere when he locked eyes with a stranger that stood near the place where the alley opened back up into the main road. With all the cars passing behind him, it was lighter on the other man's side of the alleyway, and his eyes shone brilliantly. It had caught him in some sort of reverie. He was thin, but also had a rugged build. The other man looked about his age, maybe 2 or 3 years older, definitely not older than 22, and his appearance was so striking it was dumbfounding. Before there was another moment to dwell on it, the man turned away, and disappeared into a different portion of the alley.

He continued on, step by step, looking everywhere for something that might be of use to him. After several minutes, he managed to isolate himself from the people walking around him, and was now alone in a dusky alleyway, and had no idea where to head next. Basically, he might as well have been wearing a blinking sign that said, "I'm scared shitless and I'm totally and completely lost." He could hear the faint hum of cars ahead of him, so he continued to walk forward, when seemingly out of nowhere, he found himself facing the man with the incredibly radiant eyes. Somehow he knew the chance to awkwardly swerve around the man with his head hung had already passed, and so he stood there in front of him, unsure of what to say as their eyes danced together—left, right, left, right.

Maybe it was because he still hadn't looked away, or because the older man noticed his helpless, innocent manner and cowering demeanor. He hadn't known how they got to this point, but somehow, the other man had been tracing his fingers down his sides, and the younger boy was actually allowing him to do so. He couldn't help but wonder what the hell he was getting himself into, or why he wasn't stopping this from happening. But there was also another conflicting feeling coursing through his body. His skin tingled like joy, and the tip of his tongue tasted like passion.

He stood rigidly as the man's hands lingered everywhere, and as they settled lightly on his hips, suddenly the older, very beautiful man was leaning toward him, and he could swear the man was staring at his lips. Oh, no. No, no, no. He'd seen this in movies before, not between two guys, but nevertheless, he'd seen it, and he was simply not okay with this happening. Not right now, and not ever. He could see the lust in the slightly older man's eyes, and he could feel the nausea in the pit of his stomach as the older man licked his lips and ducked his head. Now he was faced with a dilemma. Caught between desire and ethics.

"Don't."

His voice was weak, but it was still present. The man slowly and reluctantly let his hands fall limp, whispering, "Come on."

"No," he said again, sounding, if possible, even less confident in his choice. He wasn't the least bit sure of what he was supposed to do at this point, so he continued to stand awkwardly in front of this man, with his eyes pointed below the man's chin. Suddenly, the man picked up his hands again, placing them on the younger boy's belt. He took a sharp breath in as the man knelt down, and lifted up the corners of his shirt a little. The man caressed his stomach a little before kissing his hip bones. No one had ever given him so much pleasure, and it felt oh so good. When he felt a tightening around his jeans a bit, he ripped away and began to sprint in a direction. In the opposite direction, left, right, north, east, west, it didn't matter to him, as long as it was away.

He stormed at least 20 strong, defiant paces before the other man went after him.

"Wait!"

He continued to walk away. Why wasn't he afraid of this man? Why did he want _to_ run to him instead of _away_ from him? The man stopped in front of him, and he instinctively whipped his head away from his bewildering face, and to the ground.

"You left your bag."

"Nick," the 22 year-old said, extending a hand toward him.

Although he didn't dare look up at the man's face, he knew that he spoke with a smile. When he timidly refused to shake Nick's hand, the man lifted his chin up with the hallow space between his thumb and index finger. After moments upon moments of losing his way in the constructions of Nick's features, the younger boy finally spoke.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his reclusive personality completely dominating his curiosity.

"Your name'd be nice."

He tore himself away from Nick then, speaking louder than he had since he'd moved here.

"That's none of your fucking business."

He had turned away from the man once again, but Nick caught up with him again, stumbling about himself before the younger man left for good. He searched through his pockets before finding a crumpled up receipt and a thick sharpie.

As he began to scribble on it, he said, "Well, listen. If you change your mind, um, here's my number, okay?"

The younger boy just simply stared at Nick's open hand holding the receipt as if it were something he would surely break if he were to touch it. When Nick realized that he wasn't going to accept it, he leaned closer once again, stuffing it in the boy's coat pocket, and watching the hair raise on his skin as he kissed his cheek softly. Nick thought he saw the hint of a smile begin to play on the boy's lips, but it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

The younger boy counted the two seconds it took for him to pull away in every sense of the word. His heart pumped faster to keep up with his sprinting legs as he fled the scene. He thought that maybe, if he could run fast enough, the wind could dry out his tear ducts, and stop the tears from falling. He finally gave his body a break when he felt he would collapse on the tough, concrete ground. Doubled over and desperately inhaling what air he could, he tilted his head up a few degrees, hopefully to inspect his surroundings. Sitting on a bench right in front of him was a couple—a man and a woman, no older than about 19—making out like the world would end the moment they stopped. They were going at it furiously, and he just stood there, still as a fool, gaping at them. If only he could be so lucky as to be happy with a girl. To be so in love that the rest of the world didn't matter. But unfortunately, that wasn't his life. It would never be his life.

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><p>It wasn't long before he found himself standing outside his new house. He peered through the side window where he could easily see his new mother cooking dinner, while his new father and new brother sat at the table smiling and talking amongst themselves. It was a really nice comforting sight, which is exactly why he chose to turn away. He didn't belong to that family. They were too happy, and too perfect. He felt that if he interfered, that somehow, their picture-perfect lives made of clean, clear, fragile glass would shatter when he came tumbling into the picture.<p>

So once again, he fled. He fled until his feet were tired. He fled until there was no particular direction he was running in. He fled until he had nothing to flee from.

Once he was finally finished running away from his fears, he stood at the corner of a busy street, unsure about almost everything in his life. What was honestly stopping him from running out into the fray of cars, surrendering his life to the wheels beneath some panicked driver?

He was weary from running so far, but now it was time to run towards something, instead of wandering astray. He had to find somewhere to take shelter for the night. He glanced frantically around him, searching for anything, any kind of arrow or sign that could point the way towards safety. It seemed like that was the one thing he was constantly searching for.

For what seemed like a lifetime, he wandered further, in search for some direction, but gave up when it seemed hopeless. He turned to the only other option he could think of. He gently pulled the crumpled up receipt out of his coat pocket and smoothed it out. He stared blankly at the name and the number scribbled across it before finally pulling out his cell phone.

* * *

><p>Based on Nick's hushed yet ebullient directions, he found his way to the older man's apartment complex. His eyes darted to the main entrance, where a group of three bulky, intimidating men stood, loitering. Then a man coming out of the entrance doorway broke them apart, shaking hands and laughing with each of them, casually waving at them with promises to see them some other time. Nick. They waved goodbye at him as well, eventually departing.<p>

Nick instantly spotted the younger man's obvious "hiding place" and waved him over, shooting him a short, humble smile. The younger man quickly caught up to him, and then they began to walk. They weaved through small crowds of people, the older man waving at each one. "Nick," some of them would acknowledge politely as they passed by. Eventually, after squeezing through a narrow hallway, climbing a flight of stairs, and making a few complicated turns, they arrived at what the younger man assumed was Nick's apartment. Nick unlocked the door, pushed it open, and offered his open hand to the younger man, indicating that he could go in first. As he stepped inside, the younger man's shoulders were up to his ears, where he intended to keep them as long as he was here.

After entering, the younger man didn't walk much past the doorway, unsure of where to go. Nick stepped in a few seconds later, locking the door behind him and fumbling with the keys. Then, he turned his back to the door, immediately facing the younger boy, their bodies fairly close.

"Hello," Nick said simply, hunger and intimacy both strangely playing out in his eyes. But the younger boy didn't notice. He made sure to glue his eyes to the older man's chin.

"Hello," he said uniformly, mimicking Nick's voice almost exactly.

"Good evening." Nick tried again with the small talk.

"Good evening," the younger man stated, copying him.

"How are you?" Nick asked, honestly trying for a normal response.

The younger man's brows furrowed for a second, eyes focused on his chin still.

"How am I?"

Nick couldn't fight his warming smile now.

"How. _Are._ You?" he stated more clearly.

Now the younger boy moved his eyes to the floor, his instinct.

"You're just playing with me."

Nick's face dropped, analyzing the situation. He began to admire the physical beauty the boy possessed. His straight, jet-black hair, his few freckles, his slightly crooked nose. His shaking body.

"You nervous?" he asked, suddenly worried.

That got the younger man to look Nick straight in the eyes, if only for a moment, before he returned them to the floor.

"Is it your first time? Do you want a drink?" Nick asked, now willing to do whatever it was that would make this boy in his apartment comfortable enough to crack out of his little shell.

Now the younger man's face tilted upwards, his eyes actually searching Nick's. _Wow_. That momentarily rendered Nick speechless. Now all he could think about was how stunning the man's eyes were. A warm, light brown, that reminded him of teddy bears.

"No, I'm fine," the younger boy finally said, breaking the silence, but not the tension.

Nick turned away then, into the apartment. The younger man's eyes were everywhere except on him, yet Nick kept his fixed on the boy's eyes everywhere he went. He sat on his bed and took off his shirt, not sexually, but more casually.

"Well, this is me. This is where I'm from." Nick smiled up at the boy.

"You can sit down if you like," he said, motioning towards the spot next to him on the bed.

After removing his jacket, the other boy cautiously moved across the room, observing the many sketches and drawings on the wall.

'_Must be an artist,'_ he registered, before sitting next to Nick on the bed, his eyes glued to the older man's chin once again, his shoulders still tensely pressed up against his ears. Nick casually placed a hand on the bed, behind the boy, leaning slightly closer.

His voice sounded gravelly as he whispered, "If you don't want to—"

"I don't know." He was interrupted by the younger boy.

'_I don't know?'_ Nick questioned to himself silently.

He finished anyway.

"— you don't have to." He paused, searching the eyes that were still fixated on his own chin. "You _can_ go."

For several moments, there was just silence, and all that they heard was their breathing, pounding in their ears. Nick knew that the younger boy was contemplating his offer, and sighed inwardly. Suddenly, the younger boy spoke up.

"Kiss me."

Nick's face flushed with concern.

"You sure?"

"No."

He studied the face before him for a moment, and then leaned in, noting the hitch in the younger boy's breath as their lips connected. It was soft, just lips touching lips, making that sweet puckering noise that Nick loved. With just this light touch, Nick was hungry for more. Just with this one little connection, the chemistry was undeniable. He lifted his hand to cup the boy's cheek, which caused him to sky rocket off the bed. Nick immediately followed suit, both their breathing rigid.

"You've never touched a guy before," Nick said, stating it as a fact rather than a question.

The boy shook his head "no", this time earnestly searching into Nick's eyes. For a brief moment, Nick thought he might giggle like a grade school girl. This boy had Nick melted into a puddle, and he wanted to cause the same reaction to him. He wanted them to be on the same level of attraction.

"Say you want me," Nick whispered, first studying his deep, darkening eyes.

The boy's breath hitched, and was broken.

"I want you." Nick soaked this up.

"Say I'm yours."

His eyes now wandered down to the younger man's lips, wanting only so badly to kiss them again.

"You're mine."

"What's it feel like?" he asked, leaning his head in.

The boy shuddered and dropped his head.

"Nick…"

"Come on, what's it feel like?"

He paused only slightly, to lift the younger man's hand up to stroke his abdomen. He brushed the boy's fingers across the tattoo on his left hip.

"You. Now. Tell me the feeling."

His fingers lingered for a moment, and then he flinched away. His eyes fell to the floor once again.

"I feel nervous. Ashamed… I feel disgusted."

Nick frowned at the words.

"By me?"

The younger boy's brows furrowed in thought. He glanced up at Nick's face quickly, and then trailed them down to his chest. He lifted his hand up once again, an experiment. Taking in a sharp breath, he placed his hand on Nick's chest, this time trailing his hands until he traced his way to a different tattoo, this one on Nick's shoulder. He bit his lip, and lifted his head until he was staring at Nick in the eyes. There was a certain factor of intimacy there that he suddenly found enticing. Nick was truly the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Not only was Nick gorgeous, but he was standing there, shirtless, close enough to touch, and he wanted the younger man. The moment they were sharing was so intense, and the younger boy thought he never wanted it to end. That is, until Nick stepped back for a moment and stripped away his pants. Nick then walked close to the younger man, his eyes dark. _Holy mother,_ was he sexy. He could feel his jeans begin to tighten. The younger man lifted his hands to touch Nick's abs. He needed the feel Nick's skin underneath his fingers. But a set of hands blocked him.

"Stand still," he said.

"But I want to touch you," he protested.

"Well you _can't_," Nick said sensually, shaking his head.

"But… I want to," the younger boy said, trying again.

"Shh," Nick lifted a finger to his lips to emphasize this.

He traced it over the boy's lips.

"Stop talking."

"Lift your shirt over your head."

The younger boy shot him one, quick, hesitating glance before doing as he said, his arousal overpowering him.

Tugging at the ends of his tee-shirt, he turned it inside out, lifting it over his head. Suddenly, Nick stopped him while his hands hung above his head, the shirt stretching across his face.

"Leave it there. Keep your hands there… Keep your face covered."

Nick trailed his finger down the younger boy's covered mouth, leaning his head close so he could tune into the boy's breathing. He continued to slowly trace down his now bare torso. The younger boy's breaths became brisk and rapid. He then proceeded to quickly unbuckle the boy's belt, and tore his jeans off. Nick knelt on his knees, and slid his hand up the younger boy's chest again, loving the way his chest viscously rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.

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><p>The boy's shirt finally off, Nick led him back to the bed again, taking a hold of his hand. As the younger man's eyes closed, step by step, Nick guided him, placing the younger boy's hand on his chest, trailing down to the muscles on his lower abdomen. Just as he had reached the tip of his waistband, and the younger boy was about to let go of the breath he'd been holding, Nick replaced his hand, this time to trace the small tattoo over his shoulder. Nick gently held his chin, and placed the boy's lips at the curve of his neck, indicating him to trace his lips down the contours of his muscular arm. The slightly younger boy could not believe what was happening. In reality, there he was, an abandoned, self-conscious loner, sitting on the bed of a stranger with impeccable looks that took his breath away and was mapping out the navigation of his own body, leading him through his first time with another man. So instead of believing it, or thinking about it, he released his breath, and just let it happen. He let himself plant random, yet neat little kiss after kiss. He reached his hand over, and found himself desperately grabbing at Nick with the strength equivalent to someone grasping onto their life. He felt Nick lean closer into him, and only then noticed the strong pangs of lust for him. That's when something fell off the shelf in him. Something snapped, and suddenly, he could no longer ignore the insistent cravings for Nick.<p>

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><p>Nick's breaths were shallow and inconsistent, hot in the younger man's ear as he rocked his hips with him. No matter how much Nick stroked, fondled, or traced any part of the other boy, it simply wasn't enough. He could not get enough of this man in his bed. Nick pulled out just slightly, and then slammed harder into the boy, entangling their legs and pulling them impossibly closer together. He received a troubled moan in return as he poked a certain bundle of nerves in the man's body. Anatomy had always been Nick's favorite subject back in high school. He nibbled the man's ear lobe, suckling it gently.<p>

"You feel… so _fucking_… good..." he whispered between licks.

His voice, scratched with lust, was almost enough for the younger man to lose it all right there.

"Oh, _God_," he shuddered, as Nick reached around to pump the man.

"_Oh_," he whined.

Their rhythm was getting sloppier and less controlled as they both reached their climax.

"What's it feel like?" Nick chanted. "Tell me the feeling."

The younger man's eyes rolled to the back of his head as pleasure overtook him.

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><p>The younger man peeked over at Nick whose eyes were close tightly as he lay on his back, sound asleep. After what seemed like eons of contemplation and recovering his nerve, he reached over to the beautiful stranger next to him. He studied the peaceful face and the matted hair briefly before his eyes trailed down to his fit body. Just thinking about the things he wanted to do to that boy was causing all the blood in his heart to rush southward in his body. He traced the small tattoo of a snake on Nick's hip, running his finger up and down the slender body. The man's eyes opened slowly, revealing a shamefully stunning shade of hazel. The gracious smile that followed his slight confusion after waking up was maddening. Seriously, if he didn't get to feel those lips against his again, he was going to go insane. Nick glanced at the fingers tracing around his hip, and back up at the dark eyes locked on his. Throwing a laugh at the younger man, he tackled him back to the bed. When the younger boy giggled uncontrollably in return, Nick continued to wriggle his hands all around his body, testing the newfound weakness. Somewhere between the younger man's crazy laughter and Nick's love for his control over the boy, their arousal amplified. Now they were stopped, Nick straddling the younger man, and the only thing separating them was the tension in their lust-filled glare. It wasn't long before one of them would break, and they'd be at it all over again.<p>

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><p>He sat on the edge of his bed, naked in all his glory, and pulled the cigarette up to his lips. He took a long drag, inhaling the poison. It wasn't really much of a bed at all, Nick thought. It was only really a mattress on the ground covered in a mess of sheets. As he sat—crouched, more like—at the bottom of the messy folds, his feet were spread out, touching the ground in front of him, and his knees were curled up to his chest. That's how far up the mattress was from the ground. He rested his elbow on one of his knees, and exhaled a small puff of smoke. Nick looked across his shoulder, behind him, to the also naked man nestled inside the covers, his limbs sprawled gloriously, and the thin comforter covering only half of the beauty that was his human body. The younger man was sound asleep, tucked away in some peaceful dream.<p>

But Nick just had to check for a moment. Just to make sure. He quickly turned around again, and stuffed his cigarette into an empty beer can on the floor, and dived for the pocket of the young man's jeans, which were tangled and inside out from a fit earlier to get them off. He pulled out a tan leather wallet from the ass of the jeans, and turned around once again, just to make sure his stirrings hadn't awakened the beautiful boy. Nick opened the folds; fingered through the bills. Then, he found what he had been searching for. He slowly pushed the card out of its slot, reading the fine print, staring at and studying the serious photograph of the boy. At the top, it said "New Jersey" in big bold letters, and next to that, in slightly smaller script, "Identification Card". Nick had a feeling he wasn't originally from New York. He completely pulled out the card, and scanned it for what he was looking for. "Sex:M, Hair:Brn, Eyes:Brn", yes, yes, he knew all this already. Then, his eyes fell to it. His name.

Slowly, he turned around, let his eyes roam around the boy's sleeping figure. Wallet still in hand, he whispered.

"Joseph."

He let the name linger around in the air a bit, and then dropped the wallet, turning to his stomach, and crawling in the bed until he was even with the younger man. Nick gently wrapped his arm around his shoulders, tracing a bone there, wasting a few breaths before he spoke again.

"Joe," he breathed, only a fraction louder.

A smile played out in his eyes, not quite reaching his lips just yet. The boy stirred a bit, adjusting himself, before he settled again. Nick ducked his head, and cradled the boy, nuzzling his head into the nape of the boy's neck, legs entangling with his from behind. He let the smile linger for a while, and continued to trace seemingly random patterns into the boy's shoulder until sleep overtook him.

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><p>Time was moving at warp speed, and yet also in slow motion at the same time, and Nick wasn't sure how that was possible. He was sure, however, that there was a flailing of arms, a jingle of a belt buckle, and a storm of mutterings before Joe was standing in front of him, fully clothed, except for the button he was still struggling with on his jeans.<p>

"Fuck, _fuck_, I can't believe I fell asleep!" Joe exclaimed as Nick watched while sitting on the ground before him, leaning against the mattress frame, head folded in his arms.

The daylight was only just breaking outside. Nick raised his head, opening his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in concern, and his eyes jittered in an almost frantic motion as he watched the other man prepare to leave the apartment.

"I'd like to see you again," Nick said, voice even.

"Not a good idea," Joe said, all in a rush.

"Why not?"

His voice remained still and emotionless.

"It won't work!" Joe exclaimed, discovering his wallet on the floor and slipping into his back pocket. Nick's eyebrows furrowed.

"Maybe not, but—" his brain was working so sluggishly, and he couldn't process everything that was happening. His words came out painstakingly slow.

"I don't want you!"

Brief silence ensued as Joe looked Nick in the eyes, and Nick hoped he was only feigning fury. Joe slipped on his jacket in one smooth motion, zipping it up just the same.

"Goodbye, Nick," he said, his voice much smoother after the outbreak of shouts.

Joe's lips opened and closed, and finally simply frowned slightly. It was all Nick could do was watch with glassy eyes as the man opened the door, and kept one foot outside his room.

"Thank you."

It was not a mutter, but a slowly worded, evenly paced statement. And then, the beautiful man was gone.

Joe turned through every which hallway he could, rushing down several steps. He just wanted to leave. That's all he wanted, right? To get out of there? Because that was a horrible experience, and he would never do it again. I mean, that's what it was, right? _An experience. _Not an ongoing thing. This didn't make him gay. Just because he might have been the first one to reach his climax, didn't mean he found pleasure in any of that. This didn't mean anything. It was nonsense. It was just one time. _Right?_

He emerged from the building at last, and walked away, just as he had stormed away that night, away from Nick. '_Damn it!'_ he thought. He was thinking about it. The last thing he needed was to think about it. To recall the way it felt for Nick's hands to trail down his body, to feel moans against his skin, rather than hear them, and to feel the way he—'_Damn it!'_

Nick, clad in his boxers, watched from his balcony as the boy walked away, out of his life. He was almost all the way down the street.

"Turn around," he willed.

"Turn around," he said again, eyes watering as the boy took more steps.

He watched the boy climb up a few steps—the ones that led to a different pathway, where Nick would no longer be able to see him.

"Turn. Around. Turn. Around," he chanted, each word gaining more emphasis than the last.

And then, just when he was about to turn the corner, for the tiniest amount of time, the man stopped walking.

* * *

><p>Joe stopped. His eyes flittered around as he contemplated silently. He just needed to capture the moment in his head, and then he'd be able to let go. If he just took a moment to remember… he could forget. He turned over his shoulder, to face the building, finding a man standing out on his balcony. The older man pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile as his previously distressed eyes widened. They shared a moment together. Joe wasn't sure how to describe it. It was simply a moment in time as they gaped at each other, but it was a moment they shared, a moment that was… <em>theirs.<em> Joe turned around again, a full grin now splitting his face, and he walked away, unsure of anything in his life except for the fact that he would be back to that apartment complex before he even realized he was missing anything. This, he was sure of. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END.<strong>

**I know. It blew your mind. Just kidding.**

**I know it was really sloppy near the end, and just disconnected. I thought about rewriting it a bit and touching it up here and there, but I'm too lazy.**

**Still, I worked really, really hard (even though I slacked a lot) and I would REALLY appreciate it if you all would give me some feedback. It's the only way I can know if I'm appreciated, and should continue doing what I do. :) Thank you so so much for reading!**

**With Love, Carlie :D**


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